


christmas collections and white tea

by guardiansofthefantasy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas Decorations, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, No Beta, kind of, they literally just decorate their place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28237560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardiansofthefantasy/pseuds/guardiansofthefantasy
Summary: “Do you mind giving me a hand?”“Oi, what do you need my incredibly talented hands for?”“I’m stuck in the lights,” Oikawa mutters meekly.Kuroo’s incredibly sad that the lights aren’t on—that would make a magical picture.“How did you do that?”Oikawa glares at him. “I’m aware that I look even more stunning than usual, but you’ll find that I’m gonna be way prettier once you untangle me.”-----Kuroo and Oikawa decorate their shared apartment for Christmas.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 8
Kudos: 63





	christmas collections and white tea

**Author's Note:**

> I originally plannd to write a few short stories with a christmas/winter/festive vibe, but ended up not finishing any in December sooo this is the only one that made it.  
> I didn't read over it again, so forgive me if anything seems weird hhh,,  
> Have fun! And enjoy the last weeks of this year in good health!!

“Isn’t that a little much for Christmas?,” Oikawa asks tiredly, rubbing his eyes. It’s cute, like most of his actions in the morning are. It’s because he doesn’t go to bed early and ends up being sleepier than Kuroo in the morning. 

“Why?”

“We’re not in America,” Oikawa says, as if that’s a reason  _ not _ to decorate. He settles down on the couch with a cup of tea and Kuroo turns around, carefully climbing off the ladder. 

“You think it’s too much?” He rubs his neck, hoping Oikawa disagrees, because he hasn’t even started decorating yet. All he’s done so far is put up a few fairy lights. “I just really like it.”

Oikawa takes a sip of his tea, keeping eye contact with Kuroo. “You’re not even close to done yet, are you?”

“Nope,” Kuroo tells him delighted. The good thing about Oikawa Tooru is: he’s almost as easily excitable as Bokuto. In a very different way though, but Kuroo would not be as successful as he is, if he hadn’t figured out how to engage his roommate in almost everything. 

Almost everything, because Kuroo has decency and Oikawa has learned the art of a firm no from his childhood friend Iwaizumi.

“So do you want to argue all day, or are you gonna get dressed and help me?” 

Oikawa takes another contemplative sip. “What if I don’t get dressed?”

Kuroo leans against the shelf behind him and crosses his arms. “You want to decorate in your pyjamas?” 

Oikawa sends him a look, his expression edging close to irritation. “Can you not wait a bit longer?”

“Depends.” Kuroo moves over to the couch, taking the mug from Oikawa’s hands. “Do you want to help?”

“Give me back my tea.” Kuroo takes a couple of steps back. “I’ll help, but not yet.” Oikawa holds out his hands. “Tea.”

He eyes Kuroo expectantly, so Kuroo takes a sip of the tea, ignoring Oikawa’s indignant splutters of protest. He takes another sip, just to piss him off.

“Oh, fuck you,” Oikawa grumbles and gets up. Kuroo moves out of the way instinctively, keeping the mug out of Oikawa’s reach—but Oikawa just sends him a dirty look and leaves the room. Hopefully to get dressed.

Kuroo hums and slowly lifts the cup to his lips again. It’s not that he’s a big fan of tea (he prefers coffee), but Oikawa is such a wimp that he doesn’t stomach coffee all too well. 

Kuroo puts the half-empty mug down on the coffee table and climbs back up on the ladder. (It’s a wonder he needs one, considering his height, but the ceilings are higher than even he can reach.) It doesn’t take him long to put up the fairy light he was dealing with earlier, and he safely makes it back down, rummaging through the boxes of decoration. In the few years since he’s lived on his own, he gathered quite a collection—and since he moved into his own, bigger flat (and, more or less voluntarily ended up taking in Oikawa as a flatmate), he only keeps finding reasons to buy more. 

“I hate you so much,” Oikawa says, holding the mug in his hands. “Why are you like this?”

Kuroo shrugs, giving him a sly smile. “That’s just part of my personality.”

“That’s a horrible personality to have,” Oikawa informs him, staring into his tea sadly. Maybe Kuroo feels a little bit bad for drinking it, now that he sees his sad face. “You’re one to talk,” he says instead, tilting his head. “Do you want to make yourself a new one before we start decorating?”

Oikawa nods, but he raises an eyebrow at him. “Did you just say  _ start? _ I’m pretty sure you’re past that point.” 

Kuroo shrugs and pats Oikawa’s head for a second, before the other squirms away from the touch and retreats into the kitchen muttering about his ruined hair. Another Oikawa classic. 

Oikawa, despite complaining about it in the beginning, actually enjoys decorating as much as Kuroo does, laughing as they pull out different ornaments from the boxes.

“Honestly, why did you buy all of this?,” Oikawa asks, looking at Kuroo. “It’s so much.”

“I don’t know,” Kuroo grins. “Sometimes I see this stuff online and I have to buy it.”

Oikawa stares for a moment. “I hate rich people.”

There’s nothing Kuroo can do, but laugh about the comment. He likes Oikawa’s humour. “But you do like living here,” he says, amused at the way that Oikawa narrows his eyes at him, with his eyebrows drawn together on his forehead. Kuroo wants to reach over and smooth out those wrinkles, wants to cup Oikawa’s pretty face and kiss him senseless, and yes, Kuroo is aware that this is not a recent development and that it’s not really something he had taken into account when Oikawa moved in. 

He also doesn’t know what to do about it, except keep acting as he does and hoping Oikawa doesn’t notice (and if he does, acts like nothing has changed), but obviously that’s not really what he wants. Kuroo knows that’s probably a good idea to like, confess or something sappy like that, but the risks that come with it are too grave. 

“Let me guess,” Oikawa says, waving a wooden nutcracker. “You ordered this from overseas.” 

Kuroo shrugs. “Yes, actually. I did. Don’t judge me.” 

Oikawa puffs up his cheeks and lets out a breathy laugh. It’s one of Kuroo’s favourites. (He says that, as if he isn’t in love with  _ all _ of Oikawa’s laughs.)

“I’m not judging, okay? I swear.” Oikawa puts it down and moves over to the second box, placed next to the ladder on the floor.

Kuroo watches him, quite shamelessly, bend down and pull out another fairy light. Oikawa turns around to him with a beam and Kuroo quickly stares at the snowglobe he took out of the box. “I’m stealing this for my bedroom,” Oikawa says and leaves the living room. He pauses at the door and turns around to Kuroo. “I know I’m drop dead gorgeous—you’re allowed to stare.” He winks and slips into the hallway, leaving Kuroo stand by the coffee table and feeling quite exposed.

Ah, he figures, that can only mean that Oikawa isn’t opposed to any advances. (If Kuroo ever dares to make a move.) Christmas would be a perfect time, after all. 

“Uh, Kuroo-chan~,” Oikawa chirps from his bedroom. “Do you mind giving me a hand?”

Kuroo stretches and slowly makes his way to Oikawa’s bedroom. Very slowly. “Oi, what do you need my incredibly talented hands for?,” he calls insinuating.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Oikawa carps, and Kuroo steps into his bedroom, finally realising what the other is making such a fuss about. “I’m stuck in the lights,” Oikawa mutters meekly. 

Kuroo can see that. He’s incredibly sad that the lights aren’t on—that would make a magical picture. 

“How did you do that?,” he asks, wrapping his arms around himself in the hope that it would keep him from laughing. 

Oikawa glares at him. “I’m aware that I look even more stunning than usual, but you’ll find that I’m gonna be way prettier once you untangle me.”

“Huh,” Kuroo wheezes, blinking a few times.

“If you start laughing, I will make sure you’re the next one to be stuck in the lights.”

Kuroo bites his lip and steps over to Oikawa, who doesn’t even look half as miserable as he sounds. Quite the opposite, he hums as Kuroo lifts his hands to Oikawa’s shoulders and starts to tug at the string of lights. 

“You grin an awful lot for someone tangled up in fairy lights.” 

Oikawa smiles innocently and buries his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. 

The thought that Oikawa did this on purpose definitely crosses Kuroo’s mind a few times, but he dutifully detangles the string of light and helps Oikawa out of his misery. (Which definitely would’ve worked faster and easier had Oikawa helped.)

“I think you’ll have to hang it up,” Oikawa says and flops down on his bed.

“Uh huh,” Kuroo makes and stretches his arms apart to make sure the lights don’t get tousled again. “So that I’m the next one to get wrapped up in the lights?”

Oikawa grins at him, leaning back. So he’s going to enjoy the show. Kuroo smirks. He can work with that.

“But you will assist me when I ask?”

Oikawa looks at him smugly, but he gives him a single nod. 

So Kuroo turns his back to Oikawa, hyperaware that he’s watching his every move, and reaches up to the window. “Is this where you want it?”

“A little more to the left,” Oikawa orders and Kuroo leans to the side rather than taking a step. 

“Here?”

“Mhhm.” Kuroo turns around and cocks his head.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Maybe.”

Kuroo considers walking over and pressing him into the mattress, kissing that smug grin off his face. Instead, he takes the fairy lights and finally hangs them up. 

“Thank you, Kuroo-chan~,” Oikawa hums and hops off his bed. “Back to the living room, then.” 

Despite his better judgement, Kuroo reaches out and grabs Oikawa’s wrist. The smaller man makes a surprised noise, spinning around to look at him. His eyes are wide, but there’s a mischievous glint in them and a soft innocent smile on his lips. 

“To what do I owe the honour, Kuroo-chan?”

“I’m curious,” Kuroo drawls, “did you do it on purpose?”

Oikawa’s face twists in a mix of amusement and genuine confusion. “Do you really think I’d voluntarily get tangled in fairy lights so you can help detangle me?” Kuroo shrugs nonchalantly. 

“You do seem like the guy.”

A puff of air escapes Oikawa’s lips, another one of his exasperated not-quite laughs. He heads over to the hallway without trying to twist his wrist out of Kuroo’s grip, so Kuroo trudges along. 

Oikawa stops in the doorway to the living room without any warning whatsoever, and Kuroo runs into him. 

“Hah,” Oikawa smirks, turning around to face him. His free arm flies up to grasp onto Kuroo’s biceps. “Gotcha.”

It takes embarrassingly long for Kuroo to realise that they are in fact standing under a mistletoe—oh, how cliché. (It wasn’t like Kuroo hadn’t known it was there—he was the one who put it up in the first place, much to Oikawa’s confusion. “What do we need a mistletoe for? We’re the only ones living here.” “We might have guests over. It’d be a sweet excuse to kiss your date, wouldn’t it, Oikawa?” The mistletoe stayed, though Oikawa kept sending it dirty looks. Maybe he did not need an excuse to kiss his date, Kuroo had thought.)

Well. He should’ve known better. Because, as it seems, Oikawa very much  _ does  _ need an excuse to kiss his—wait.

“You know what mistletoes are for,” Oikawa reminds him. “You’ve got to, you were the one buying it in the first place.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says, unhelpfully. He’s all too aware of Oikawa’s hand on his biceps and his wrist still in Kuroo’s hold, the veins gently pulsing against Kuroo’s thumb. Or maybe it was his own pulse. Who could tell? Certainly not Kuroo.

Oikawa looks at him with the most patient expression Kuroo had ever seen on him and he realises that maybe, there is some sort of expectation in those deep brown eyes, shining like melted milk chocolate, the remembrance of late autumn evenings and baking gingerbread cookies. 

So Kuroo loosens his hold on Oikawa’s wrist and runs his fingers up his forearm, under the sleeve of his sweater. As he wonders whether he should bring up his other hand to cup Oikawa’s face or hold on to his waist, it dawns on Kuroo that he had never, ever kissed someone before. He is twenty-five years old and has never even considered giving it a try, and right now he might or might not be regretting it immensely.

Oikawa’s hand (the one that isn’t clasping Kuroo’s biceps, which is so very distracting, what is Oikawa thinking) rests against’s Kuroo’s side now, and then there’s the sweet taste of that white tea Oikawa had been drinking earlier on Kuroo’s lips and realises that,  _ oh,  _ Oikawa is kissing him and  _ thank god he knows how to do that. _

Kuroo leans in almost instinctively and tries to ignore the fleeting thoughts in the back of his mind. Instead he…doesn’t focus at all and lets Oikawa lead him (which works surprisingly well. Maybe it shouldn’t really be a surprise anymore, Kuroo thinks. They’re an excellent team, after all.)

It’s over way too soon for Kuroo’s liking, but when he opens his eyes (when did he close them?) and Oikawa grins at him, somehow managing to look fond and smug at the same time, Kuroo thinks he might like the moment after kissing more than the kiss itself.

When Oikawa kisses him again two seconds later, Kuroo tentatively overthinks that statement again. 

There’s a mischievous glint in Oikawa’s eyes. “But we don’t want to get distracted now, do we?” 

Kuroo hums, closing his eyes as Oikawa cradles his face, fingertips ghosting over his cheeks, digging into the spot under his jaw. “We’ve got all day to decorate,” he mutters. “Good that we got up so early.” 

Oikawa laughs and Kuroo doesn’t have to look at him to know how his eyes crinkle at the edges. 

Their content patience doesn’t last longer than ten minutes, and they both pull away awkwardly, running their hands over the other’s arms, not quite wanting to let go yet. 

Kuroo clears his throat. “We still have two boxes with decorations,” he observes, ignoring the fact that Oikawa is probably aware of it. 

It serves its purpose—they both focus back on the boxes and Oikawa puts his hands on his hips with a determined look. “Alright! Let’s turn this place into a Christmas Shop display.” 

Kuroo huffs, nudging his side. “Don’t be so mean.” 

“Ah, am I wrong though?” Oikawa smirks, wínding away when Kuroo reaches out to tickle him. Of course he isn’t. 

“Nothing bad about that,” Kuroo argues, lifting some lametta. “Ánd you do like it.” He drapes the lametta over Oikawa’s shoulders. 

“Fine, you got me. I do secretly like it, but don’t let it get to your head.” Oikawa furls the lametta and puts it onto his hair, shooting Kuroo a grin.

“I don’t think I’m the one with the ego problem here,” Kuroo replies, leaning down to steal a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on twitter [@heamptyart](https://twitter.com/heamptyart) to yell at me or [see some snippets of wips](https://twitter.com/heamptyart/status/1358457830810992642)


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